23/05/06
Characters: Vice, Terry
Shanghai Sports Bar
From the outside, this sports bar looks deceptively average. A long
brick-and-mortar building with large tinted picture windows on the side, it's
seated on a corner not far from the bridge leading off the Southtown peninsula.
An L-shaped parking lot provides a much-needed buffer between the building and
the all-night drugstore on its side and the auto repair shop behind it.
Inside, however, is another story. Without a doubt, no expense was spared in
making this place as opulent as possible. The bar counter is made of cold grey
marble, supported by sturdy, well-polished hardwood. Television displays line
the wall behind the bar counter, framed by the glasses and bottles suspended
from the celing. Rectangular onyx inlays and gold-trimmed runners line the
walls, themselves papered with a neutral shade of purple. Hardwood tables and
chairs populate the common area of the bar.
Since it's a sports bar, there are also more comfortable places to sit. Three
conversational areas are distributed about the bar, each with a leather sofa and
two loveseats centered around a flatscreen plasma display suspended from the
ceiling. There are also six pool tables and two dartboards closer to the rear of
the bar, each with plenty of space to avoid unwanted casualties.
A wall running the length of the "L"-shaped bar counter separates the manager's
office, the door to the wine cellar, and the restrooms from the noise of the
common areas.
[Exits : Out to West Outskirts, and Wine Cellar]
Ah, such a lovely, ordinary evening in a quiet little bar in South City, of
course... as things are likely to go in this city, things aren't going to remain
very ordinary very long, or... for that matter, very quiet either. Especially if
Vice has anything to say about it!
She stalks into the bar, snarling as she looks around the area, taking it all
in, it'd been far too long since she had been in here, far too long since she
had gotten a stiff drink and a drunken brawl. With that thought in mind and an
arrogant sneer on her lips, the Orochi walks towards the bar in a few measured
steps, and slams her fist down on the bartop hard enough to leave a very
definite mark.
"Give me." She demands, voice deadly low, "A bottle of tequila. Give it to me,
NOW." She yells that last word, intending to get right up in the face of the
bartender and terrify him into compliance, after all... he might just recognize
her, she used to frequent these parts quite often...
'Ordinary'.
Right. Even the most naive tourist soon learns just how mundane the average
night out in Southtown tends to be, for better or for worse. Still; the canny
native can just as quickly pick up on where to avoid trouble, and how to keep
their head low when a touch of solitude is desired. The City of Fighters has
something for everyone really, provided they know the ways and means.
Few can claim to be more comfortably steeped in this knowledge than Terry
Bogard. The Hungry Wolf, the living legend himself. It just so happens that on
this particular night he's chosen a venue identical to that picked by a less
savoury individual, and when her scream hits his ears he has already marked her
aura, picked up on the prescence of a similar spirit. Hardly unusual in this
town, nor in this bar. But there's something special about Vice.. something he
has only felt in a precious few, and can boast little familiarity with. It's
enough to make him wary - or it would be, were it not for his current state.
Deeply lodged senses clue him in, but caution is lost upon a foggy mind.
Cheek cupped in one palm, posture casual in the extreme, the Wolf sits at one
end of the bar, eyes partially bloodshot and a nearly empty whisky bottle a few
inches from his elbow.
Terry cringes after a moment, when time has been taken to compute the
antagonistic prescence. What did he expect, slouching far from sober in a
Syndicate bar? Something was bound to happen. At least it's not happening to
him. "Uh, hey..." Yet. His voice raises after the initial slurred greeting, and
his hand lifts from his glass to adjust his cap from its current wonky state. An
uncertain smile flickers on his lips, before he makes a vague gesture toward the
Orochi madwoman. "Could ya keep the noise down? People're tryin' to.. enjoy
themselves... y'know?"
Vice lets out a small noise of triumph and snatches her hard-won prize from the
bartender- a nice bottle of Tequila, hard to come by in Southtown, true... but,
well, if it was that or his life, which one would you choose? She takes a long
slug straight from the bottle, and only -then- chooses to look at Terry.
She looks at the man for a long moment.
She looks at the bottle in her hand.
And then she smiles, a predatory grin with all the passion and warmth of a shark
going in for the kill. "What is that, friend?" She asks, "Did you say
something?"
She takes two steps forwards towards the man, "Because you know if you did...
you really ought to--"
And then she is charging forwards! Bottle raised like a club, "KEEP YOUR GODDAMN
TRAP SHUT!" She screams, the psychotic woman going from creepily calm to enraged
in about half a second, she aims to literally drive the bottle through Terry's
forehead, your average person would probably be at least severely injured by
this, the impact alone would do serious damage!
Of course, if Terry was still standing after the attack, Vice would be a lot
more interested! A lot more interested indeed!
COMBATSYS: Vice has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Terry has joined the fight here.
COMBATSYS: Terry blocks Vice's Random Weapon.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Terry
A bar like this has its own ways and means - no expense spared for a place
dedicated to serving Southtown royalty. Perhaps Vice knows exactly where she is,
and perhaps she doesn't, but ultimately it hardly matters. What matters is her
actions, those which speak even louder than her first hasty words. Terry seems
unconcerned with that fierce stare, dulled blue eyes meeting her gaze with an
open nonchalance. They may not be entirely in focus, but these normally blazing
optics give her some clue as to the man she's potentially dealing with.
And even inebriated, he possesses that same spirit.
Smile lingering upon his lips, mouth still open from delivering his vague
admonishment, the elder Bogard doesn't budge an inch as his aggressor starts
forward. She's certainly a predator, but he is no prey. Flinching again,
involuntarily, when her cry comes to assault his dazed eardrums, it seems not to
perturb his actions as that hand rises back to the brim of his eternal cap.
Fingers reach into the air with an unlikely grace, finally folding about the
cool glass. The bottle stops dead.
"That's not very nice, miss. Ya might just hurt someone like that."
Terry's eyes seem to fill with renewed life, his lips twitching upward a little
further on one side to form a light, amused half-grin. But something in his gaze
is less than amused, his own predatory spark. Releasing the bottle slowly, his
hand comes away with a crackling sound and fluid begins to drip forth - from
numerous cracks where the impact has fallen. This done, the Wolf pushes himself
to his feet with a single, forceful motion. He steps back, the barstool
clattering onto the floor behind, and draws up to his full height with a
chuckle, drawing that blocking hand back across his mouth. "Normally I'd take
this outside, but I'm thinkin'.. you're not the type for nicety, right? Let's do
this..." he pauses, drunkenness kicking in to bring a full two-second hesitation
before he nods to himself and continues, "Right here, miss... sorry, I missed
the name..."
COMBATSYS: Terry takes no action.
Vice actually grins wider when her attack is blocked, and discards the bottle,
"Oh I -like- you." She hisses, stepping back, "I am Vice, and you... you are
dead." She laughs loudly, "You just wasted my drink! Its gone and I didn't even
get any blood in return, I'm so disappointed, and I don't like being
disappointed."
She meets his gaze with her own, and now there is definitely something else
there, she isn't just a predator, oh no, the Orochi is quite angry... and she
can't wait to sink her teeth into the battle, perhaps it is that which explains
her next actions, because in a moment the Orochi has charged forwards.
"Enough talk!" She yells, decidedly battering Terry's eardrums if nothing else,
she aims to get one leg behind the larger man, and topple him over backwards,
only to bring his neck into range of her hand...
If she can grab his neck, what follows is truly a testament to her ungodly
strength as the woman would proceed to whip Terry up into the air, only to
-SLAM- him down into- and through- the barttop, by his neck, aiming to use his
skull to shatter the hard marble counter and wooden supports... oof!
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Terry with Mithan's Robe.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Terry
In many ways, this is exactly what the blonde brawler was fishing for. For the
hometown hero to lurk around a Syndicate bar in most lethargic fashion? He has
to be have something in mind a little beyond simple distraction. There are
plenty of quiet backstreet bars where this situation would not have been
inevitable, plenty of places where he wouldn't be assured to say or do exactly
the wrong thing. Never mind that to Vice, he's just another punk who gone done
incited her wonderful wrath.
To him, she's a little more interesting. He just doesn't realise it.
"Hey, whatever you say," the Hungry Wolf replies to her insistent cry, rolling
his shoulders back in a shrug and starting to raise a guard, fists clenching to
be brought up before him. To the rest of her speech he gives nothing in return -
this has gone a bit far beyond conversation, and he knows damn well how heavy
that first strike was. Whoever she is, she wants to rip his lungs out and he...
he honestly just wants a brawl. He gets it. And in dramatic style. "Wh-"
Seized by the neck before he can fully realise what's going on, Terry's
scrambled logic offers up the only possible response - whatever she chucks next,
roll the hell with it. Logic which only goes so far when you're being driven
through polished marble and expensive wood. In a flash, the muscular American is
brought down by this slip-of-a-chick, his neck creaking some protest as the slam
comes. All the breath flashs from his lungs in a harsh expulsion, and for a
second he seems unable of any counter, eyes rolling upward in their sockets.
"..."
But it's scarcely past that timeframe when his body suddenly spasms, muscles
clenching and chi flooding into powerful limbs. "SyaaaaaAAAA!" Saliva flecking
his lips as he gives the emboldened cry, the Wolf surges upward, aiming to
firstly toss Vice off him and away from the ruined bar, but secondly - to strike
her with a huge uppercutting blow from his right arm. Red-gold energy explodes
about his knuckles just before intended impact, and if it strikes... she'll be
carried up to the ceiling as the punch is taken heavenward. Bogard leaps up and
then comes down hard with a second blow, a second forceful explosion marking
this final crunch. "DUNK!!"
COMBATSYS: Vice fails to interrupt Power Dunk from Terry with Gore Fest.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Terry
Vice shudders in delight as she looks down at Terry, "Now that was..." She
starts, only to hesitate when Terry starts to get up, her eyes widen, "Oh -yes-"
She shivers, "Oh GOOD!" She cries, stepping forwards, she spots the energy
around Terry's fist, and that just makes her grin widen more! This was going to
be FUN!
Her arms lash out to try and grab Terry's arm, but... she is just a little too
slow, and instead she winds up taking the blow head on, flung backwards under
the incredible power of the attack, she hits the wall hard, head cracking
against it painfully. When she looks up at Terry, her grin is still very much
there... even if it is a little more blood-stained than it had been.
"That... actually... hurt..." She laughs, throwing her head back as she stands,
"You /hurt/ me!" She cackles, as though this were the funniest thing that has
happened to her in years!
Times like these are when a man can be very thankful he's six shots under.
Vice's orgasmic display of pleasure is almost entirely lost on the red-capped
man, most specifically the alarm bells this might normally set to jangling
madly. He follows through with his devastating two-strike assault and lands only
a split-second after she does... and only barely more comfortably. Where she
bounces off a hard wall, he at least finds the nicely maintained floor of the
bar, but he stumbles drastically, weaving back and forth with his fist
half-extended before he once more finds his balance in a tentative crouch. Whew.
A moment's pause is taken before now utterly red-streaked eyes focus on the
standing woman. She's.. grinning? As he begins to stand too, the lingering
drunken nerves cause Terry to imitate Vice, white teeth flashed in aggressively
jovial fashion. "Ha! Don't mention it..." The last tails off in a mumble as he
veers away toward the wreckage of the bar, staggering across and bending down to
locate something in the mess. A single gloved hand enters a shattered slab of
marble, a light clink sounding before he turns around once more, triumphantly
raising his miraculously unbroken whisky bottle. Removing the cap is an
instinctive matter, and swigging from the bottle follows on quite naturally.
Which is when the Hungry Wolf hesitates, eyes widening as his mind gives the
body a nudge. They were in the middle of doing something. "Mmf!" Quickly pulling
the bottle away, he lowers it to his side and takes a step toward Vice, already
dropping to a crouch in mid-step. "Right! Power..." Energy flares into life once
more about leather-tightened knuckles. His fist hits the floor with unaccustomed
sloppiness, but the impact still shakes the surrounding area. Somehow he holds
onto his alcoholic burden as a concussive blade of chi tears out toward his
opponent, tearing a shallow trench in its path. "WAVE!"
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Terry's Power Wave.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Vice 1/---====/=======|=======\-------\1 Terry
Vice grins, eyes mad as she too focuses on the moment at hand, her blood was
pounding in her ears, her body telling her she was in pain, ah, glorious pain...
like an old friend, how she has missed it... and now she has a wave of energy
tearing towards her, well, there is only one logical choice for her to make in a
situation like this.
She charges it head on.
The energy burns her, oh yes it burns, but its force isn't nearly enough to even
put a dent in her all out, screaming, bloody charge, packing every ounce of her
effort into covering the distance between her and the mountain of a man before
her, her hands reach out, grasping, tearing at any part of the man she can get
hold of.
She was going to -BREAK- Terry now, he had hurt her! Time for her to hurt him...
COMBATSYS: Terry endures Vice's Negative Gain.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Terry
Vice roars with triumph as her hands grab Terry by the neck shoulder and leg and
she literally hauls the man into the air over her head, holding him there for a
moment, she brings him down hard on the sharp, jagged remains of the bar,
readjusting her grip to his leg, she swings him around, hard, into the glass
bottles behind the bar to a cacophony of broken glass, but she isn't done yet,
oh no, not by a long shot...
No, the woman takes up a third grip to slam the man head first into the bar once
more, before just picking him up and -HURLING- him with all her might at the
furthest wall, when she is done with this brutal display of power, she is
breathing heavily, fists clenched as blood runs down her face and arms, "Stay.
Down." She demands, voice quavering with barely held anger... most of the bar in
ruins.
"...huh. Don't see that every day."
Terry's words come in a distant murmur as he slips back up to his feet,
still-glowing hand shifting up to scratch his right temple in mild bemusement.
Given what the screaming brunette just took head-on, he can't help but be
momentarily put off, and he even forgets to swig from the dangling whisky
bottle. Possibly a fatal mistake - with what he's about to receive, he could use
every last milligram of alcohol to soak up the pain. And oh what pain. Caught
entirely offguard by this puzzling display, he's gripped firmly as can be and
tossed about for the full set of motions.
When it's all over, the few patrons still visible in the far corners have
already drawn their conclusions. For all the Legendary Wolf's talents, in his
current state and with an assault like that... all bets are off. It's over. A
shame none of them ever happened to catch his greatest moments - they'll have to
wait for the DVD release to realise exactly why he manages to stir, a groan
parting his blood-spattered lips. Glass sticks from his arms and torso, and one
leg of his jeans bears a bloody gouge flanked by miserably tattered denim.
Somehow though, he keeps moving, a hand crunching against broken glass to bring
the leverage he needs to push up onto all fours. Movement is slow, but soon
enough he's back in the fight. "Thing is..."
His voice is faint, a bare gasp with a distinct cracked edge. A clearing of the
throat brings back enough power to make his point, and it's accompanied by a
defiantly humorous twist of the lips. "If I stay here... they'll make /me/ pay
for all this. H-Hardly fair, right?" With a shake of his head, the Wolf stops
talking, and starts walking. A single pace carries him back into Vice's zone,
and a second brings him into contact. He launches off this step, seemingly
aiming to plow right /through/ the woman as his left fist snaps up to collide
with her nose. Just before impact, time seems to stand still, and his eyes lock
onto hers, sapphires shining in the bloodshot mess. "Are you okay?"
...whatever the hell that means.
COMBATSYS: Terry successfully hits Vice with Jab Punch.
[ \\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Terry
It means...
A lot less than you might think. And far less than is hinted by the garguantan
flood of energy that shimmers up Terry's arm as the blow lands - an effect which
fails to reach the usual blossom about his knuckles. It's not a light tap by any
standard, but something is clearly held back. His feet plant to the floor, his
other arm starts to rise, and then the still-extended left shakes, and lowers.
"..guess not."
Vice spits blood as Terry gets up, "I thought I told you to stay down." She
snarls, stepping forwards, she brings her arm up to try and divert the blow, and
instead finds herself staggering back, head snapping back under the unexpected
force of that attack. She grunts, shaking her head as though to try and shake
off the damage. She narrows her eyes at Terry, breathing heavily... truth be
told, Vice knows her limits quite well, and she knows she is pretty much at the
end of them for this round... she couldn't take much more before her body
decided to quit playing along and just give up. Bah, she couldn't let that
happen.
"Am I alright?" She spits, "Are you stupid or just deaf?" She growls, eyes
gleaming with rage, "I told you to stay down, and you get right back up, well
I'm telling you know." She cracks her knuckle, taking a deep breath, "If you go
now, I'll leave you the use of your legs."
COMBATSYS: Vice drops her guard to recover.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Terry
Terry's inebriation seems to reach a new stage as he stands there, feet still in
position for what would have been the grand finale. Gone is the jovial drunk,
and here comes a twinge of unsure melancholy. His gaze lowers to focus on his
right hand, fingers flexing against the smoke-charged air. A frown on his brow,
he replies to the shaking Vice all the same, but it's clear the words - and the
sentiment - are not delivered only to her, "An' ya really thought I'd listen? I
don't stay down that easy..." Stupid? Deaf? Emo?
It doesn't linger too long. When that ultimatum is delivered, the Wolf is
launched back into reality, confusion overtaking a moment of clarity as he soaks
up the rather sudden words. He's not the only one having moodswings. His eyes
widen, and he locks an equally bemused stare upon Vice for a good few
heartbeats, before a croaky chuckle emanates from his throat. "Sounds like fun,
but I got a better idea. How about.." he pauses to make another adjustment to
his cap, both hands lifting to scrabble about for the peak. Which is notably
absent, lying in the rubble a few paces behind after his last offensive leap.
"How about we sit back down, have a drink, an' forget this whole thing?" Giving
up the search, he makes a wide gesture with both arms, flashing a broad grin and
taking an involuntary, unbalanced step backward. Glass crunches beneath his
feet, but at the same time he gains a slightly better position than the last.
Leaving his arms extended until he gets a reply, there is one other thing of
note. That right hand still forms a focus for the man's considerable
internalised energies, clearly sensed by any who'd care to notice. He may not
consciously realise it either... but it's there. Instinct reigns supreme.
COMBATSYS: Terry focuses on his next action.
Vice takes a deep breath at Terry's words, and her fists clench... actually
tight enough that a little blood can be seen to dribble from her palm for a
moment, her nails really are quite sharp, and she was really... really angered
by how easily he seemed to be able to shrug off her assault, why wasn't he
dead?! Or at least injured?
Suddenly she is surging forwards, a truly animal roar tearing itself from her
lips as she goes, she intends to simply plough into the man, her wild eyes
staring into his as her fingers seek out his neck, intending to dig in, and then
whip him around like a rag doll before -hurling- him through the doors of the
bar, "SHUT UP!" She screams, she wanted him to -stop- now, she wanted this to
-end-
COMBATSYS: Terry interrupts Decide from Vice with Power Geyser.
[ \ < > /////////// ]
Vice 1/-======/=======|===----\-------\0 Terry
Ways and means?
Under any other circumstance, Terry would be treating this crazed female quite
differently. He may have walked away, he may have handled the bout in a more
tactically sound fashion. With technique to avoid the grievous wounds already
incurred - but these barely register at the moment, and no options have
presented themselves beside cajoling Vice into further action. For what it's
worth, this 'tactic' works, and the seemingly wide open blonde finds himself
victim to another breakneck lunge. Literally.
Instinct kicks in.
"Haaaa!!" His left hand flickers out as he turns to present a three-quarter
profile, sneakers plowing through the wreckage. As Vice's hand descends for a
grapple, his opens to a palm and shoves her away, those fingers finding brief
and bloody purchase but no more - the grip is broken and by then his other arm
is raised high. All that built up energy comes to impressive fruition, red-gold
flame erupting from his palm, out about curled fingers and down the length of
his forearm. "POWERRR.." A gust of wind explodes from Terry as he spins around
and into a crouch, right hand clenching to a mighty fist which hammers into the
floor, a minor earthquake striking the bar as a massive column of chi sprouts
forth. The roof comes close to simply being blown away, but it holds, which is
less than can be said for the surrounding furniture and one or two unfortunate
patrons.
The storm comes, and Vice is forced to weather the whole thing.
She is its focus.
"GEYSAAAAAAAAAAHH!!"
Vice opens her eyes wide as the energy tears into her, and she does indeed
weather it all, her voice raised in glorious laughter as the power surges into
her, through her, pounding her... when it is over, she hits the ground hard,
smoking... and one might even think that the Orochi assassin is down and out for
the count.
But she isn't done yet... Terry is still standing!
Her head snaps up, and with a gurgling roar she charges forwards, she could feel
her body shutting down, she wasn't going to last much longer, but she wanted to
put this guy down, she wanted to cause him as much pain as he had her...
One last display of force, and then she could let herself collapse... that is
what she thinks, if she thinks anything, as she charges Terry, hand grasping out
at him one last time...
COMBATSYS: Vice can no longer fight.
COMBATSYS: Terry fails to interrupt Negative Gain from Vice with Rising Tackle.
[ \\\\\ <
Terry 0/-------/---====|
Vice screams, grabbing Terry by the neck, she just keeps going, smashing his
head against the wall -hard-, chunks of plaster crack. She lifts his head up
again, smashing it into the wall once more, a third time, a fourth... she lifts
his head a fifth time, a large chunk of wall missing at this point, and sways
for a moment, unsteadily, before slamming Terry's head one final time into the
wall.
"Stay..." She starts, and then simply keels over, unconscious, her body just
giving way. She collapses atop Terry like a puppet whose strings have suddenly
been cut, still alive, but totally, completely unconscious.
Unf.
There really isn't much to be said here. One moment Terry is part of his own
little world of extreme force, generating enough power to level a building in
any other city. The next he is gripped in that most painful place not for the
first time. He has no time to react. His shaking fist is still embedded to the
floor, his head swimming in a mixture of sheer confusion and adrenaline-pumped
excitement - it's been a while since he got worked over like this on a night
out. Whoever this woman is, she'll bear some future intrigue...
If he even remembers her.
Which might be unlikely. Repeatedly he falls into sharp contact with brick and
plaster, a cascade of pain that ends several minutes after Vice's release from
consciousness. As she falls atop the blonde brawler, he is unconscious himself,
entirely blacked out. He stirs first, though, a vestige of strength remaining in
his bruised and slashed limbs, strength enough that he can push the
astonishingly mighty woman away. She falls unceremoniously to the floor as
Bogard stands...
But somewhere, another form of instinct kicks in. A quick blue-eyed glance goes
to the devastation around him, noting all that's happened and all that will come
to pass as a result of tonight. It's the final glance to Vice that catches the
Wolf though, and he stops his muscles' desire to retreat the scene, pausing to
dig in his pocket and pull forth a battered leather wallet. This hits the
woman's abs a second later, and only one thing remains - retrieving that which
matters most.
One hour later, Terry Bogard lies in a cheap hotel room, still as bloodied as
can be, but complete with that red cap upon his brow. Totally and blissfully
uncaring that he's just handed a potential enemy a big wad of cash, and all the
identity he owns.
To be continued?
COMBATSYS: Terry takes no action.
COMBATSYS: Terry has ended the fight here.
(
geocities.com/terrybgoode/logs) (
geocities.com/terrybgoode)